


Shades Of Blue

by artttho



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Vomiting, but like slightly and i dont describe it, i guess though i could tag, kinda as well??, theres not a lot of tags to have for the first chapter :/, we'll see as i write dfgdfkg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26382733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artttho/pseuds/artttho
Summary: Newt's double drift with kaijus may have had more serious problems than he let on, but really, is he to blame? It was in the name of science.(Or, I just really wanna explore Newt's trauma after Pacrim, and how the precursers effected him)*EDIT [I rewrote the first two chapters because I hated them lmao so if you read before oct 31 please reread!! theres nothing really different, but I like what i wrote waaaaay better. thanks!!]
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> am i writing another multi chapter fic? yes. am i procrastinating my previous daforge fic? also yes. did i end up watching pacrim and falling in love with one crazy biologist named Newton Geiszler and maybe Hermann Gottleib too? lmao yeah :/  
> i dont really? have a full plan for this fic? i just kinda wanted to explore Newt and Hermann's trauma, the effects drifting had on them, and like, how the precursers would change Newt. BUT!! this is NOT uprising compliant because I hate how they handled the whole story dfkjghdf >:(  
> anyway, thanks for clicking!! and i hope you enjoy it!!

The party had been going on for at least five hours before Newt found his way back to the lab, and it didn’t look like it was going to wind down any time soon. He’s been having fun, really, congratulating Raleigh and Mako, answering everyone’s kaiju questions (in depth to those he didn’t bore after a minute of talking). But at hour four, Newt started to feel tired. Which was funny, because that wasn’t even the longest party he’d ever been to. And it certainly wasn’t the longest he’s gone without sleep (he slept maybe twenty hours his entire time in college. Seriously, getting six degrees was murder on his mental health). But there he was, right in the middle of explaining how he concocted his own neural bridge (he felt particularly proud of that one), when he felt a throb in his left temple, and not fifteen minutes later all he wanted to do was lay down, go to sleep, be unconscious for this migraine that was about to hit. 

Eventually, everything got to be too much, and Newt excused himself as quietly as he could, his headache spreading. It took about five minutes to make his way towards the lab, and the whole time he felt like he was going to vomit. He tried to tell himself it was just how tired he was, he was just getting older and couldn’t pull these all nighters like he used to, especially after the night he just had. Newt could feel his body hum with the aftershock of everything, remnants of adrenaline that hadn’t gone away yet.  _ It’s the trauma, _ he thought to himself.

Newt chuckled at that despite how shitty he felt. Yeah, right. Traumatic. That wasn’t a word he usually associated with himself. Maybe for Hermann, he had a pretty traumatic accident resulting in his limp. Mako had a bunch of trauma from childhood, from what Newt could gleam from his inevitable eavesdropping. Even Raleigh had trauma.  _ I mean, _ he thought,  _ his own brother died while they were connected. That guy’s gotta be more messed up than me. _ All Newt did that night was… see a kaiju up close. Run away a few times, no big fucking deal. Everyone here’s had it worse.

Pulling open the doors to the lab, Newt headed to his desk, sitting himself down with a sigh. He dropped his head in his hand, cheek resting on the flat of his palm. His eyes were threatening to close, and it took everything in him to keep them open. The last thing he wanted to do right now was fall asleep upright at his desk. His fingers were itching to open his laptop and start writing on that paper Pentecost wanted, or maybe a quick dissection, to connect what he learned today to the samples he has laying around. But it was almost ten o’clock, and logically he knew he should be in bed but… Newt blinked. But there were still pieces of kaiju strewn about. 

Actually, looking around, Newt noticed there were a  _ lot _ of his samples strewn about. He didn’t think to clean up before leaving the shatterdome for the slums, so his work was quite literally all over the place. A purple limb hung over the side of his dissecting table. Part of a spleen… thing… was threatening to cross the line Hermann put down years ago. Kaiju guts littered the area around the glass case that half the half dead brain he first drifted with, and he had no idea where they came from. Newt pursed his lips. He should probably clean up before Hermann walks in tomorrow and starts yelling at him about the mess.

But he felt like he weighed a thousand pounds, and he could barely keep his head up. He felt sick. He felt really, really sick, and he closed his eyes to stop his vision from swimming, his headache pounding away.  _ Shit. _ He wondered why he felt so sick. He hadn’t been in nearly a decade, and it would be just his luck that he’d fall ill the day the apocalypse ended. Just his fucking luck.

When he still felt dizzy even with his eyes shut, he took off his glasses and stood up which, in hindsight, was a terrible idea. His stomach lurched in an odd way, and he barely made it to the trashcan next to Hermann’s chalkboard before puking up everything he ate that day. Which, honestly, wasn’t that much, and before long, Newt just ended up dry heaving.

After a minute or two of leaning uncomfortably against the can, his stomach finally settled, and he sat down hard on the linoleum floor. He was shaking and somehow his headache got even  _ worse _ and his eyes won’t stop falling shut, and  _ fuck  _ did he somehow catch the flu? Where would he even get it? The bone slums? Maybe the public shelter… it  _ was _ filled to capacity and he was pretty sure someone sneezed on him just before Otachi broke through the ceiling-

_ Otachi. _

Otachi. Newt rubbed his eyes, and smiled without realizing.

Otachi was beautiful, he thought. Even when he was sure she was going to eat him, he knew she was so beautiful, and half of him started thinking of different tattoo ideas of her right then and there. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to get the right shade of blue and, really, if you can’t capture the essence, why even try? 

His head felt like it was buzzing.

She had come through the breach and broken through Hong Kong for him, he knew it. He was shaking and scared out of his fucking mind, but the moment she broke through the concrete ceiling all he wanted to do was stay there with her, learn from her, touch her, be her, be her  _ be her- _

Newt froze. What the fuck. What the fuck? What the fuck. 

What was he thinking? He shook his head slightly and furrowed his brows, and his head felt like it was on fire. He might’ve been more than a little interested in kaijus but… that was weird, even for him. 

But was it? There was something in the back of his mind telling him  _ no, not really _ . But that didn’t sound right. Newt wasn’t, like,  _ in love _ with kaijus. He didn’t worship them, he didn’t even really like them to be entirely honest. Yeah, he talked about them all the time, got full body tattoos of them, but that was because they were his work. His life’s work. He studied them. He dissected them. They were like a puzzle he wanted, needed, to figure out. 

And they were interesting enough to draw.

Beautiful.

_ Nope, _ Newt thought with another shake of his head.  _ Nope, gonna stop it with the ‘beautiful’ thing. _ He blew out a breath and stood up. His legs were still shaking, but at least he wasn’t as nauseous anymore, which he’d take as a win. Maybe he wasn’t coming down with anything at all. Yeah, it must just be the fatigue. God, he was tired. His brain felt fuzzy and the headache just kept pounding away, moving from the top of his eyebrow to the back of his head, and he could feel the ache in his teeth. He rubbed at his temples and was about to finally give in and head to his room when he spotted Hermann lurking in the doorway of the lab, a slight frown turning his features. Like, actually lurking, and Newt would’ve called out, jokingly accusing him of being a creep if he wasn’t so exhausted. So he opted to smile instead. Or at least he thought he was smiling before Hermann’s frown deepened. Newt dropped his smile and rubbed his face.

“What’s up, Herms?” he said, and he was almost surprised at how croaky he sounded. He waited for an answer, and when he didn’t hear one, he spread his fingers and peered between them. Hermann was still wearing a frown, but it somehow managed to deepen. Lowering his hands, Newt crossed the lab towards his friend. The two were silent for a long moment, and Newt started to fidget under his gaze. Eventually, though, Hermann’s frown softened. 

“Are you feeling well?” he asked, his voice low. Newt forced out a chuckle.

“Yeah, no I’m…” he trailed off, feeling another lurch in his stomach. “I’m ok, I probably just ate something off is all.” Newt’s gaze flickered to the side, eyelids drooping just a fraction, and he sighed. He could feel Hermann’s eyes boring holes into the side of his skull, and he sighed again, turning back to the other. “Really Herms, I feel great.”

“Then why is there vomit in my trash can?” Newt cringed and rubbed the back of his head.

“Like I said I ate something bad-”

“Newton.” Newt looked up to see Hermann had stepped closer, barely a foot away from him now. His face was stern, and that odd expression was back, and Newt wanted nothing more than to slink out and crawl into bed.

What?” he asked when Hermann didn’t elaborate. 

“Please don’t try to deflect,” he said, his voice low. A little confused, Newt furrowed his brows.

“What?” he repeated, and the other sighed.

“You are deflecting, Newton, it’s what you do best.” Now it was Newt’s turn to frown. Deflecting? Yeah, of course he was deflecting, but he wanted it to actually work so he could leave. Another long silence stretched between them, and Hermann wouldn’t stop trying to catch Newt’s eye, and Newt wouldn’t stop looking anywhere but Hermann. His head throbbed and he closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. Finally he opened his mouth to reply, but his stomach made another uncomfortable flip, and he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth. He swayed for a moment before he felt a steady hand on his lower back. He tried to step out of reach, but Hermann was quicker. He kept a hand on Newt’s back and brought the other one up to take Newt’s wrist, grip tight.

Newt didn’t stop to think, he just reached out to hold on to something,  _ anything, _ to keep his balance, his head was spinning so fast. He curled his fingers and held on like his life depended on it, and he stood there as his stomach kept lurching before he couldn’t take it any longer. He crossed the room back to the chalkboard and fell to his knees, dry heaving once again.  _ Fuck, _ he thought, tears fighting their way through his shut eyes.  _ Fuck. _ He could feel Hermann hovering just behind him, and though a part of him felt warm from affection, the other part was equally embarrassed. He was getting sick (and on Hermann’s side of the room no less), and it had to be gross, just really really gross.  _ I mean, I never liked staying by a puking person's side, _ he thought. 

Minutes (which felt like hours) passed before Newt’s stomach finally settled. He was exhausted and refused to lift his head from the edge of the trash can, opting to stay settled  _ and please Hermann just let me rest here for the night it’s fine I can sleep like this I’ve done it before. _ His throat felt raw and his body ached and for once. For once his mind wasn’t going a mile a minute. He could feel himself starting to slip and doze when a hand on his shoulder startled him. He jumped and turned to see Hermann awkwardly kneeling next to him, eyes wide. 

“Newton,” he started, but Newt just shook his head.

“Herms, ‘m okay,” he said, his words slurred just slightly. He saw the other’s face pinch with worry. Without another word, Hermann carefully took hold of Newt’s elbow and helped him stand, his grip steady but firm. Newt whined and tried to pull away, but there wasn’t any real intent behind it. He was honestly too tired to fight anymore. His vision swam around him and it took a few tries to get his legs to move, but eventually he let himself stand. The floor was spinning, and he felt so… fuzzy. He barely felt Hermann lead him out of the lab and up the stairs to his room. Someone turned up the volume on his headache, and he could now comfortably call it a migraine. It was like tv static was muddling up his brain. 

The sound of his door scraping open felt like a rust dully knife was slowly being pushed into his left temple, and it took everything for him not to sob. He hadn’t had a migraine like this in years, not since his first year teaching at MIT. He’d completely forgotten just how embarrassingly debilitating it made him. 

Dully, he heard Hermann murmur something, but he couldn’t figure out what it was past all the cotton in his brain. He turned to ask him to repeat himself when he felt the soft pad of Hermann’s thumb ghost just under his nose. Newt froze and flicked his eyes towards Hermann, the question on the tip of his tongue dying when he noticed the smear of blood where his finger brushed.

“Your nose was bleeding again,” was all Hermann said. Newt blinked and nodded his head, not trusting himself to say anything. He just closed his eyes once more and made his way towards his bed, not bothering to take anything off except his ruined jacket. He dimly thought to wish Hermann a good night, but the moment his head hit his pillow, he was asleep. 

He dreamed in different shades of blue.


	2. Chapter 2

It took a minute or two to pull himself awake, sleep hanging tight like it didn’t want to let go. And to be fair, Newt did not want to let go. He was warm and fuzzy, and his body felt like a giant lead weight, and even just trying to turn over in bed was a chore. His eyelids didn’t want to open no matter how hard he tried. Glimpses of his dream (blue and luminescent) started to fade fast, and Newt desperately wanted to hold onto them, but it was too late. Soon, all Newt had was the remnants of his migraine and an empty stomach. 

Groaning, he sat up in bed, scrubbing his hands across his face. He stayed like that for a moment, hands slowly sliding down his face, blowing out a long breath. His mouth was dry, and, smacking his lips, he searched his room for a bottle of water he knew he tossed somewhere. His eyes landed on his nightstand next to his bed, and he noticed a glass of water half full with a few saltines next to it. His stomach growled loudly, and he eagerly reached for the crackers. They were bland and a little stale but, they were there so… Newt shrugged. Whatever. He’ll get breakfast soon.

He glanced over at the little analog clock on his nightstand and sighed when he noticed the time. 11:45. Almost four hours late for work. He sat there numbly for a moment or two before rocketing out of bed, grabbing whatever clothes he could find (making sure they didn’t reek first), and got dressed, still dazed from sleep. He nearly fell over trying to get his dumb fucking pants on. Speeding through the rest of his routine, he snagged an empty coffee mug before rushing out the door.

Newt rubbed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Today was gonna be a long day.

Fifteen minutes later, after a quick stop at the mess hall, Newt strolled into work only slightly out of breath. He caught Hermann’s eye when he passed his desk and flashed an apologetic smile. Hermann didn’t smile back, but he didn’t say anything either, so Newt assumed his lateness wasn’t the total end of the world. Maybe he got a free pass for getting sick last night. Shaking his head, Newt settled down at his desk. A few papers were strewn across it, haphazard from whatever self pity he was going through last night, but thankfully everything he needed for the day was already there.

He was supposed to be writing a paper for Pentecost about his theory of kaiju drifts, and how badly he fucked up and why no one should  _ actually _ try to drift with a kaiju. As if that’s what’s really important, Newt thought. No, the drifting wasn’t the important part, it was just the first step. What was really interesting, what really buttered Newt’s roll, was how the kaiju  _ thought. _ The hivemind. The cloning. The alieness of it all was almost too foreign for him to truly understand but, somehow, Newt got it. Well, not all of it, but he got it. The gist. At least the gist of what was happening two nights ago. Well. Ok, maybe Newt was still a little confused about things, and maybe he didn’t understand his drifts as well as he thought but he could. He could write a paper about it, right? Right, that’s what he did. He bullshited papers until something sounded smart enough to publish. 

Newt shook his head and winced. The remnants of last night’s headache hadn’t fully gone away. He looked up to see Hermann staring at him, shifting his eyes back to his paper just a hair too slow. Pursing his lips, Newt went back to his own paper, afraid of calling Hermann out. Oh, a week ago he’d have no problem provoking and teasing his labmate for staring, but it just didn’t feel right. At least not at the moment. Shaking his head, he resumed his typing. Pentecost wanted a full report in two days, and that wasn’t really a time cruncher, but Newt could get distracted fairly easily.

Bouncing his leg, he glanced over again at Hermann. He had his head in one of his hands, the other furiously taking notes on whatever equation he was working on now, eyes half lidded in concentration. A warmth spread through Newt’s chest, and he blinked. He could feel a slight pressure build in the back of his head and he tilted it. The sensation was… odd. It wasn’t like a headache it was like… like he was still drifting with someone ( _ or something _ , Newt thought), and their presence hadn’t disappeared. Newt chewed the inside of his cheek. Weird. 

“Hey, uh, Herms,” he started, clearing his throat when Hermann raised his head. “Thanks, um, thanks for last night.” 

“What do you mean?” Hermann asked, eyebrows raised, and for a second Newt was worried he imagined everything that happened last night. It would be a first, but it certainly wasn’t the craziest thing he’s done.

“You know,” he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “For, for walking me to my room. And not getting grossed out when I puked in your trash.” Hermann made a noncommittal sound.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said, his tone neutral, though to Newt it sounded forced. “It would’ve been a shame if you weren’t able to finish your work on time.” 

“Hm,” Newt hummed. He and Hermann kept their gaze for a moment before the latter returned back to his paper. Newt stared for a few more seconds, the warmth in his chest spreading down his arms to his fingertips. He drummed them quietly to get the energy out, but before long he started bouncing his legs in tandem. He needed to move around.

He stood from his desk as quietly as he could and headed to the back of the lab where he knew Hermann wouldn’t be bothered. He blew out a breath and started pacing the length of the lab, careful not to step too close to the other’s space. Again, usually he wouldn’t be so worried about annoying Hermann (on days like these, it took everything in Newt  _ not _ to walk around the lab, trying to rile the other up in hopes of some conversation, or at the very least an argument; at least then he’d be able to get his energy out), but he just. He wasn’t in the mood for an argument. Or a conversation. What he really wanted to be doing was dissecting a kaiju.

_ Shit, _ he thought.  _ Shit, I really do want to dissect a kaiju. _ He wished he saved more of the baby kaiju. In the hurry to get back to the Shatterdome and warn the jaegers their plan wasn’t gonna work, Newt didn’t even think to call claim to anything. Now, he was sure Chau’s men wrapped and bagged every salvageable part of the baby they could find, leaving nothing but bone scraps and skin. Unbelievable. He growled in frustration. Here he was sitting at his desk writing a stupid theory paper when he could be back out there, learning more about the kaiju, learning more about how they work, how they’re cloned. Being back out there next to the monster. Maybe…

Maybe he could drift again.

Oh, that was an idea. Newt stopped his pacing abruptly, biting his thumbnail. It worked the last time, all he had to do was jerry-rig an even better bridge, and he could drift. The thought sent a thrill up his spine, and he was halfway back to his desk when he paused. 

_ You almost died last time. _ Hm, true, but that was just because the bridge he built was shoddy at best. He didn’t know what was gonna happen, really, and he’s better prepared this time. He’ll be careful. That’s what science is all about, isn't it? Taking risks for answers? They were ready to throw away the first jaeger pilots in favor of science, weren’t they? It’ll be just like that, but this time only one person would be in danger, and that’d be Newt himself.  _ Yeah, _ he thought, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and heading towards the doors.  _ Yeah, it’s just my life on the line, and what’s that worth in the face of science? _ Nothing really.

But he would need a brain.

He stopped short, one arm through his jacket. Fuck. He would need a brain. Where could he find one? Could he go back to Chau’s? But he’s dead. Maybe his crew would still be operating, that’s how shady underground businesses work, right? The big man gets killed, someone else fills his place? Maybe. But what if they don’t have a brain? Chau did say no one buys them. So where would he find one? Newt slowly pulled the rest of his jacket on, mind racing. Maybe he could go back to the harbour, maybe they hadn’t harvested everything yet. Yeah. Yeah, good plan, start easy, work your way from there-

“Newton!” Newt jumped and spun around, nearly knocking into Hermann just a few inches away from him.

“Woah, shit, dude, what!?” He almost shouted, voice high and squeaky.

“I’ve been calling you for…” Hermann trailed off. “Where are you going?” 

Newt stalled. He didn’t want to tell Hermann he was planning on drifting again, or even that he was going to go back to the harbour. He’d just yell at him to sit down and finish his work, or that he was being irrational and stupid, and it could get him killed, blah blah blah. Narrowing his eyes, Newt turned back around, reaching for the doors.

“I’m hungry, man, just heading for the mess hall,” he lied, and a part of him cringed. No matter how much he and Hermann fought, he never really lied to him.  _ Well, first for everything, right? _ He felt Hermann’s eyes bore a hole in the back of his head, and he sighed. 

“That’s not true,” Hermann said, not a question, but a fact.

“What?”

“That’s not true, is it Newton,” he repeated, and Newt slowly turned around.

“What makes you say that?” He asked, and was surprised to see Hermann’s face shift to something… sheepish.

“I… am not entirely sure.” He lowered his gaze before puffing out his chest slightly. “It was just a feeling I had. So don’t try to lie to me, Doctor Geiszler.” Newt blinked at him owlishly, mouth opening and closing. 

“Ok, first of all, you can stop calling me ‘Doctor Geiszler’, it’s stinted and starting to get annoying. Second of all,” Newt fully turned around now, pointing his finger at Hermann, “it’s really none of your business what I’m doing, so just-”

“Oh, none of my business?” Hermann interrupted, dark eyes widening. “Since when has your… shenanigans… have been none of my business-?”

“Since we started working together dude, just because we’re lab partners doesn’t mean I gotta bare my soul-”

“I’m not asking you to bare your soul, I’m asking to tell the truth-”

“The truth is food-!”

“Oh, sure, you paced for exactly five minutes and thirty-two seconds, then come barging from the back of the lab like some lunatic-”

“What, I can’t be in a hurry to eat? I said I’m fucking hungry dude-”

“NEWTON!” Hermann yelled, and Newt took a step back, breathing hard. He noticed he still had his finger in Hermann’s face, and he lowered it slowly, waiting for Hermann to continue. “Please,” he started, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please, just tell me. I’m not entirely sure how I know, but I know you’re not hungry, not even a bit peckish.” Newt snorted at that.

“Come on, man I-” he stopped, a sudden burst of anger that wasn’t his exploding in the back of his mind, and he gasped. Hermann opened his mouth at nearly the same moment. 

“Would you stop?!” He all but shouted, irritation dripping off his words, and Newt felt a twinge of it in his chest, and his jaw ticked. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, not used to feeling like this around Hermann. But god he was so annoyed right now.

“FUCK THAT!” Newt shouted, and he relished how Hermann stepped back. He was angry now, a pool of lava settling in his stomach urging him to go further. “Fuck that Hermann, because you know what? I’m thirty-six fucking years old, and I can’t go eat dinner by myself?” He shot his hands in the air, quivering with anger. “Now I’ve gotta have some stuffy old mathemeticion telling me what I can and can’t do?”

“That is NOT-” Hermann started but Newt cut him off, on a roll.

“What the fuck’s up man?! Are you threatened? Am I a threat to you somehow, leaving the lab?” Ok, now he knew he wasn’t making as great of a point as he thought,  _ but what the fuck? _ Newt was so  _ angry, _ and he didn’t know what to do with it other than ball it up and chuck it at Hermann. “Come on, Gottlieb, you want to monitor my every move, I might as well be your fucking husband-!” Before he could go any further, Hermann’s hand shot out and grabbed the front of Newt’s shirt, balling it up in his fist.

“Newton that is  _ enough, _ ” He hissed, his face inches from Newt’s. They stood like that for a few seconds, Newt trying to control his breathing. But when Hermann bared his teeth and tightened his hold on Newt, all at once the anger dissipated, replaced with… something sadder. 

“I’m-”

“Newton Geiszler,” Hermann started. “I’m so tired of hearing your voice.” His jaw ticked once before he let go of Newt’s shirt, and Newt stumbled back slightly, a bit dazed. There was that pressure in the back of his head again, but it was louder this time, more persistent. When Hermann turned to walk back to his desk, Newt’s hand shot out and landed on his elbow.

“Wait!” His voice cracked and he cleared it, shrinking under the other’s gaze. “Wait, Hermann, I’m sorry, I’m…” he trailed off. “I don’t know…” He tilted his head as he was talking, trying to reason out his anger.  _ What the fuck was that? _ Newt’s an intense person, he knows that. Every emotion he has seems to blow up two fold when he’s excited but… anger was never really one of them. Sure, he was a pretty angry kid but, he hadn’t gotten that angry in well over fifteen years. 

“Newton,” Hermann said, and Newt noticed how tired he sounded. “Please, what are you trying to get at?”

“I don’t… I don’t know, Hermann, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blow up on you like that, it was weird.” He dropped Hermann’s arm and glanced over at the lab doors. “I wasn’t really gonna go to the mess hall.” Hermann sighed.

“I know,” he replied. “What  _ were _ you going to do?” 

“I was…” what  _ was _ he going to do? Confront Chau’s men for a brain he knew was already dead, and therefore worthless? Why was he so eager to drift again? It wasn’t exactly a fun experience, and only made bearable because Hermann was there… “I was gonna….” God, what the fuck was he thinking. Drifting again would kill him. Like seriously kill him, until he died, like permanently. And he was gonna do it alone. Newt squared his shoulders. “I had the idiodic idea to try to drift again,” he huffed out all in one breath. 

Hermann’s face turned to stone. “You were going to drift. Again.” 

“Um. Y-yeah,” Newt replied, running a hand through his hair, embarrassed. “Yeah, I don’t-”

“Are you stupid?” Hermann asked, incredulously, leaning back in shock.

“Excuse me?”

“Newton, that is the single, most infuriatingly stupid idea you have  _ ever _ had, even more than trying to drift solo, because at least then you did it to stop a war!” Hermann’s hand was wrapped tight around the head of his cane, his eyebrows lowered. “You nearly died the first time, you were going to try again? What for!?” 

Newt crossed his arms and shook his head, desperately wanting to be anywhere but here. “I was just thinking… I don’t know Herms, I was bored-”

“Bored!”

“Yes, bored! I was bored writing that stupid paper the marshall wanted me to write, and pacing wasn’t getting rid of the ants crawling up my legs, so I thought ‘man I wanna do nothing but dissect a freaking kaiju right now’, and I thought it was a good idea, and I started thinking, well maybe if I could dissect one, I could drift again, because there’s so many questions I have, Herm, and I’m itching to figure them out, it feels like my brain’s on fire, and I needed  _ something- _ ”

“Newton!” Hermann held out his hand to stop Newt from rambling for too long. Newt closed his eyes and let out an annoyed huff, uncrossing his arms and dragging his hands down his face. “Please tell me that is Newton Geiszler talking.” 

“Wh…?” Newt was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I say this with the least amount of offense I can muster, but Newton Geiszler is somewhat of a coward,” Hermann said, and raised his hand when Newt started to protest. “You drifted the first time because you were oh so curious about the kaiju’s mind. You only drifted a second time because you were ordered to.” He reached out a hand, landing just above Newt’s elbow. “I know you were terrified of drifting the second time, I could  _ feel _ it. So why were you so eager to do it again?” That… was a good question. 

“I-” Newt’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “I don’t know.” It was weird, really. It had been only a day since everything happened, and he hasn’t felt comfortable since, almost like the ants on his legs were roaming around his head too. His thoughts always returned to kaiju, which shouldn’t be weird, it was his life’s work after all, but it was… his thoughts were so frantic when it turned to them, like he was missing a part of himself and desperately wanted it back. “I guess it’s just drift bleed man. You weren’t the only brain I drifted with,” he said, his tone airy trying to lighten the mood. Which didn’t work, seeing as Hermann’s face was as stoney as ever. “It’ll blow over in a few days.”

Hermann didn’t look convinced. “I hope I don’t actually need to monitor you.”

“Mon- _ monitor _ me?” Newt covered his eyes with his hand. “No, dude, I wasn’t being serious, you don’t have to monitor me, I’m not a hazard-”

“It seems to me you are-”

“Oh, really? Name one thing I’ve done-”

“Nearly barged out of here on your way to drift with a dead kaiju brain! AGAIN!” Hermann pointed out, and Newt stammered, running his hand through his hair like a nervous tic.

“Ok- it’s- this one time- I’m not actually gonna-”

“Don’t make me monitor you, Newton. Please,” Hermann closed his eyes and turned back to his desk, shoulders drooping, obviously done with the conversation. Newt chewed his bottom lip and sighed.  _ Fucking monitored. _ He was about to head back to his desk when his stomach growled, loudly. Clutching it he threw a pointed look at Hermann.

“Oh, look at that, I’m actually hungry,” he deadpanned, turning to the door and yanking it open. “I’m heading to the mess hall dude.” He revelled in the fact the door closed with a heavy thud, and immediately felt bad. It wasn’t Hermann’s fault. Really, he was just looking out for Newt, and that was to be expected, right? Drifting had some odd consequences, it was only natural for him to be worried? Maybe? Newt shook his head. He could feel it start to fill with cotton, and it was getting hard to think. Hopefully a hot meal would help with that.

It turned out, scarfing down mashed potatoes and grilled chicken didn’t really do anything for his concentration. He sat at one of the far tables in the mess hall (thankfully a mostly empty table- he got there fairly late, and everyone else already had their dinner) contemplating if he should try to go back to the lab or not. He wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of trying to sit still and write something, and even less in love with the thought of talking to Hermann again, so he figured he’d just go back to his room. His eyes were starting to droop, and he thought a good night’s sleep would help. He was sure he was just thrown off his rhythm from the last forty-eight hours.

Newt got up and returned his tray, absentmindedly making his way out of the mess hall, only managing to bump into one j-tech. It felt like no time at all before he found himself opening the door to his cramped room. He took a deep breath and toed off his boots, not really needing to untie them or anything (he didn’t like it when the laces were too tight around his ankles). He took off his button up in favor of an old ratty t shirt, shimmying out of his pants, and flopped down on his bed. Not even bothering to check the time, he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. He was startled to find he was much more tired than he thought, and in a matter of minutes he was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh?? i finished this chapter exactly how i finished the last one?? yeah apparently i got a thing for sleeping so shrug emoji

**Author's Note:**

> check out my tumblrs @startrecks and @artttho ;0


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